Fall For Me
by InkParchmentAndQuill
Summary: "Shall I make you fall for me…?" he whispered, stroking a finger across her cheek. "I could never fall for someone like you," was her uncertain reply as, for the first time, her resolve began to waver. "We'll see about that," he laughed before disappearing into the night.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There are many things in this world that cannot be understood. Falling in love is one of them. There is no reason for it; there is no cause; there is no pattern. Some people find love, others do not. In love, nothing is fixed. Love is ever changing yet ever constant. There is no such thing as a world without love because without love, life seems pointless.

But there comes a time in everyone's lives when they ask the seemingly simple question: what is love? For people to understand _why_ we love, they must first understand _what_ love is. However, what many people have come to realise is that there is no one definition of love. It comes in many forms and is felt in many different ways. Some love is innate, such as the love of a parent for their child. Some love is platonic, such as the love of a friend. Some love is temporary or conditional, some love is unquestionable. However, very, very occasionally, a love is found that consumes the person entirely and is beyond anything they have ever felt or ever dreamt of. Some people call it soul-mates, some claim they are kindred spirits and some people simply say it is true love.

As a child, I decided that no matter what, I would find my soul-mate, my kindred spirit, my true love. I told myself that I would never love anyone but 'the one' and that one day, I would know exactly what it was like to feel the way Juliet felt for Romeo, the way Isolde felt for Tristan or Elizabeth for Darcy… I was determined that I should find a love like theirs. It never occurred to me that such love may not exist, that such heroines as Juliet and Isolde and Elizabeth were all fragments of the imagination, kept alive in the words of legends or the pen on paper and that as a result, there was never any proof that such a love had ever actually existed.

There was, however, one thing I should have learnt from my heroines: that love can appear even when least expected. That you can fall for someone off limits, for someone out of reach, or even for the person you have sworn to hate. I always thought that falling in love would be simple, that I would meet someone one day and I would just _know_. Perhaps such love exists, love at first sight… then again, perhaps is does not. But I would know nothing anything about it because my story does not begin with love at first sight… In fact, I'm not really sure where my story begins. Where does any story begin? At the beginning of course… But where is the beginning? Is it the beginning of our lives? The beginning of an era? The beginning of time? I suppose a story begins whenever we want it to but it is never complete, it is just a fragment of a much greater story.

Therefore, I have decided my story begins in the middle of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match at the beginning of November 2021… It was my Seventh and final year at Hogwarts and I was the Captain of the Slytherin team. I was determined to win. Nothing could get in my way… Nothing, including that arrogant, conceited, obnoxious prick who captained the other team: James Sirius Potter.


	2. The Match

**I**

**The Match**

**_November 2021_**

The cool air whips at my face, tugging at my hair. I can see Seth Nott hovering below me, prepared to catch the Quaffle if need be. Scanning the pitch, I spot Scorpius Malfoy heading my way. This is it. Shooting forward, I gain momentum until I reach Scorpius who throws the Quaffle to me. Catching it with ease, I continue on towards the three hoops at the other end of the pitch. Charlotte Brookes and Rose Weasley are heading straight at me, their eyes focused on the Quaffle in my arm. Somehow avoiding the Bludgers that are smashed at me by the Higgs siblings, I make it to the hoops. Only Emily Edwards stands (or rather hovers) between me and another goal.

Then, without warning, a blur of red robes flashes passed me and the weight of the Quaffle in my arm vanishes. James Sirius Potter, _you are so dead_. Yanking my broom around, my eyes immediately fix on Potter and I race after him. The thrill of the chase is almost as exhilarating as scoring. Almost, but not quite. Of course, it does not take long before I am almost neck and neck with him. The prick has the audacity to smirk at me over his shoulder, costing him precious seconds to reach Jasper Nott and the Slytherin hoops.

"How does it feel? Losing?" he shouts over the wind and the roar of the crowed as he approaches the goal posts. I narrow my eyes at him, mentally picturing him flying straight into the posts. Not through. Into. Hopefully breaking his thick skull open. I smirk at the thought of his miniscule brain getting lost in the fragments of bone.

The crowd screeches as I lunge at him, my eyes fixed solely on the Quaffle in his arms. We are now flying with our bodies pressed against each other as I attempting to pry the Quaffle from him while also trying not to vomit at his proximity. At last, the Quaffle comes away and I turn sharply on my broom. Immediately, Scorpius and Seth are by my side, protecting me from Potter's retaliation attack. This Quaffle is mine.

We soar through the air in arrow formation, the two Chasers either side of me and the Beaters beside them, fending of the blasted Bludgers. Needless to say, this time I score. Again. And no, that was not bragging, it was a fact.

The score was now 170 – 130 to Slytherin. In the moments it takes Edwards to collect the Quaffle and throw it back into play, I scan the pitch for the Seekers. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin is always an interesting match, not only is there the rivalry between me and the Scum as Captains, but there is also the sibling rivalry between the Scum's younger siblings who both play Seeker. Personally, I cannot see how Lily survives in her family. Then again, she is tough. Or so she makes people believe.

I spot the Scum's younger brother Albus first. He is flying hard, as if chasing something, his crimson robes whipping in the wind he is creating. Then I spot Lily. She is watching her brother with a faintly amused look.

The commentator is screaming into the microphone. Has Albus Potter seen the Snitch? Judging by Lily's calm demeanour, I'm guess no. Before I can watch any more, my attention is called back to the Quaffle as Edwards finally throws it back in. Brookes catches it and throws it to Weasley who shoots down the pitch with it. Seth and I are quick off the mark, shooting after her. I pull ahead and catch up with her just as she throws to Potter. I intercede and the Quaffle is in Slytherin hands once more. Dodging around a Bludger, I pass the Quaffle to Seth who has finally caught up and he takes off back down the pitch with me following just behind.

Let's make that 180 – 130 to Slytherin.

Before Edwards can throw it back into play again, the commentator goes crazy.

"And it looks like Potter has actually seen the Snitch this time, Albus I mean, he's shooting after it with his sister close on his heels. This is going to be tight but will Albus catch the Snitch on time or will the Slytherin Seeker get there first? Gryffindor just need to catch the Snitch in order to win which puts the pressure on Slytherin. Will they be able to do? Is that- Is- No! Lily Potter has caught the Snitch right from under her brother's fingers! That makes the score 360 – 130 to Slytherin! I still can't believe it! Slytherin wins!" he screeches.

I think he might be bias.

The crowds practically drown out the rest of his speech as the Slytherin stalls erupt into cheers and the Gryffindors scream in protest. Tough luck little Gryffies, we won fair and square. I fly down to the ground to congratulate my team. Pete and Poppy White, the Beaters, reach me first, pulling me into a hug and screaming in my ear. Yeah, Slytherins aren't cold hearted and stuck up anymore... Well, maybe not _all_. Lily Potter nods at me before heading into the changing rooms and she is closely followed by Jasper, who at least shouts 'well done' at us.

Scorpius and Seth join us and a few members of the Gryffindor team come over to congratulate us. Neither Weasley nor Albus Potter are present but I see their Beaters shake hands with ours and the older of the Higgs siblings, the girl, even ruffles Pete's hair which causes his sister to snort and nudge him in the stomach. Brookes comes over to shake hands with Scorpius, Seth and myself and to my horror, the Scum decides to follow her lead.

He shakes Scorpius' hand first, then Seth's before reaching me.

"What was that you were saying about losing?" I smile innocently and flutter my eyelashes. He just smirks and attempts to ruffle my hair. He has been trying to do that ever since Second Year when he saw me punch Pete for doing exactly that. That boy is a masochist, I swear. I glare at him and he backs off… Wise move scumbag.

Eventually, Pete, Poppy, Seth, Scorpius and I follow Jasper and Lily back into the changing rooms while the Gryffindors go off to theirs. As I suspected, Jasper is in the showers and Lily is nowhere to be seen.

"So our next match is against Ravenclaw right?" Scorpius asks as we make our way back to the castle.

"Yeah, we can check out their tactics in their game against Hufflepuff first though," I explain. "Their weakness is their Keeper, they just can't seem to find one to stick – last year they went through four of them. So if we can get the Quaffle up to the hoops, scoring shouldn't be a problem."

"But what about their Chasers? They're pretty good," he frowned.

"Well, Tamara Boot and Dominique Weasley and pretty good but they'll have to get a replacement for McCoy, which means they'll still be adjusting. Their Beaters are the ones to watch out for."

"What? Fred Weasley and that Jordan girl?"

"Yeah, they can be lethal; I've heard they've been practicing all summer."

"And their Seeker's pretty good."

"Ava Night may be one of the best… But Lily is better," I wink as we approach the entrance to the common room. "_Newts eye_," I mutter and the wall melts away to reveal a narrow stone passageway. When we emerge on the other side, Scorpius takes his leave and I head towards one of the low-backed, leather armchairs.

Most people find the thought of being half submerged by the Black Lake repulsive, but ever since I was a child, I have loved water and the calming swishing sound it makes outside my dorm window at night is like a perfect lullaby. The grand fireplace at one end of the common room does little to heat the place, especially now that winter is well and truly on its way (even if the first snow hasn't actually fallen yet), so blankets and rugs are littered across the sofas and armchairs for the students to use.

"Good game?" murmurs a voice from behind me as Rosamund Selwyn comes to join me. She perches daintily on the edge of the sofa to my right as Blake Hugh takes the seat on her other side. Rosa has been my closest friend since First Year despite our differences. Where she has long, curled, blonde hair, mine is brown and shortly cropped; her dark blues eyes are always passive and approachable whereas my brown ones are all too often alive with fury; only in our build do we look similar – tall and slender (me from endless Quidditch practice and her because she has a blissfully high metabolism).

While Quidditch is practically my life, Rosa will only come and watch it in the summer months when it is not raining. I think in total, she has come to a grand total of three Quidditch matches in seven years. All Slytherin of course. She excels in in Charms and History of Magic while I prefer Potions and Care of Magical Creatures – I'm a hands on person.

Our backgrounds are also dissimilar. She is descended from a long line of purebloods on both sides, her mother is an heiress and her father was a Death Eater. I on the other hand, am the daughter of a Squib and his muggle wife. My father was disowned by his family at aged eleven and entirely cut off when he married a muggle. In Fourth Year, Rosa and I discovered we were actually second cousins.

The boy (or man I should really say) sitting beside Rosa is Blake Hugh. Rosa and Blake have been dating since Third Year and are the envy of almost everyone in the school, certainly all the Slytherins at any rate. They are the perfect couple: she is the beautiful blonde, he is the tall, dark, handsome stranger… Minus the stranger part if you actually knew him.

"Hey Rose, Blake," I nod at them. "Wasn't too bad… We won, obviously," I laugh, indicating to where Scorpius and Seth had roped in Lukas Nott, Seth's older brother and Scorpius' best friend, to enchant small, emerald orbs to float around and singing… I think the song is something about how Slytherin are unbeatable and Gryffindor are, well… such words should probably not be repeated. Rosa just glances at them with pursed lips while Blake snorts quietly.

"You seem to be losing your edge though Sedgwick," Blake returns his attention to me. "Potter just took it right out of your grasp." There is a twinkle of mischief in his eye that I am all too familiar with. Blake Hugh is one of the very few people who dares to tease me and boy does he enjoy it. He knows exactly how to get under my skin and rile me.

"Don't talk to me about that mindless toe rag," I growl, unwillingly falling to Blake's attempts. He just chuckles and leans back onto the sofa. Allow me to explain this little _rivalry_ between myself and that Potter Scum… not that there is all that much explaining to be done. We hate each other. It is as simple as that. No one really remembers why, just that it started in First Year and has become progressively worse… To a point where I threw a cauldron full of boiling Draught of Living Death over him at the end of last year. Needless to say, I have only just finished serving detentions for that. And I cannot even remember what he did.

He is proud, arrogant and obnoxious; he thinks the whole world revolves around him just because of who is father is; he is lazy and conceited, rarely doing any class work and preferring to just doodle and plan pranks with his right hand man, Drew Thomas. The tragedy is that Thomas is actually a decent human being who as been corrupted by Potter's poisonous ways. Rosa thinks our hatred is childish and that Potter is really 'not that bad'. When she told me, I didn't speak to her for three weeks. Blake on the other hand, thinks it is hysterical, which in some ways is even more irritating than what Rosa thinks.

"Quinn!" Seth shouts from across the room. "Come and check this out, you'll love it," he laughs, waving what appears to be a banner with some crude drawings on it. Reluctantly pushing myself up from my comfortable seat, I make my way over to the three boys.

"Isn't it amazing," chuckles Scorpius as I get closer. It is indeed a banner. With drawings on it. Beautiful drawings. Drawings of Potter (and the rest of the Gryffindor team) on broomsticks, looking like they are just learning to fly. I can make out the White twins smashing Bludgers repeatedly at the players and besides Potter, there is a rather dodgy representation of me… smacking him over the head with my broom.

"It's fantastic," I breathe. "Where are you going to hang it?"

"We were thinking about the Great Hall," Scorpius smirks.

"Right above the Gryffindor table," adds Lukas, grinning wickedly.

"Down at the end where Potter sits," Seth winks. I love these boys. "What do you think?"

"Perfect," I grin back at them.

Lily Luna Potter. The Scum's youngest sibling. A Slytherin. Most people have already written Lily off as a hopeless case. She is unapproachable and vicious; her fuse is shorter than anyone else's and her temper unmatchable. When Lily is angry, most people run. I can think of only six that don't: her brothers, her cousin Rose, Scorpius, Seth and myself. But we don't run for different reasons. Her brothers stay because they feel they have to, they think they know her best and feel responsible for her; Rose stays because she understands Lily most; I stay because she is my team mate and I need to make sure she doesn't injure herself or get herself in any major detentions that might interfere with Quidditch practice, I also think she needs someone to be there for her; Scorpius stays because he is her best friend and Seth… Well Seth stays to taunt her.

Only very rarely however, is there an occasion where all six of us are present at the same time. Of course, this is not actually that surprising as she kicked off in the Entrance Hall just as we were all going to dinner. It was Seth's fault, it usually is.

"Lily please," Potter begs, trying to retain the vicious thirteen year old from launching herself at Seth. "Lily calm down," he practically shouts.

"Shouting is not going to help the situation, Potter," I sneer. He looks over his shoulder at me and there is a look of desperation in his eyes as Lily stamps on his foot. The Entrance Hall has been cleared out of students and as usual, the Professors are turning a blind eye to Lily's antics. The rest of us are standing in a sort of semicircle around them, unsure what to do.

"Come on Lilykins," Seth smirks. "Is Pottywotty too strong for you? Are you just a little pathetic baby?" he taunts. As much as I love Seth, that boy has either got some kind of death wish or he is really just incredibly stupid. His taunts only make Lily struggle harder against her brother.

"Seth, shut up," Scorpius snaps, glaring at him. "Just go back and eat or Potter will let her go and you can deal with her yourself," he threatens and Seth turns slightly pale before shooting one last sneer at Lily and vanishing into the Great Hall. I shall be having words with him later… not that that ever does much to help.

Potter is still struggling to refrain Lily who is now trying to bite her way free. Rose is just sitting on the bottom step of the Grand Staircase with Albus beside her, Scorpius is trying in vain to reason with Lily and I am just standing here, feeling a bit pointless.

"Sedgwick," Potter begs. "Could you please just _do_ something?"

"Like what Potter?" I snap, hating the feeling of being helpless.

"Quinn," Scorpius mutters in his 'warning tone'. I can tell he doesn't want Potter and myself to kick off as well because in the state Lily is in, I don't think he would be able to handle her by himself.

"Anything… You're her housemate, and a girl… Surely you know something that might calm her the fuck down!" My brain goes into over drive trying to think of things I do when I'm angry. Eat. She doesn't look like she could digest anything in the same room as Seth. Draw. She is really not that kind of girl. Fly. Well I can't exactly take her flying right now…

I flick my wand and wait for a minute until two brooms come floating down the corridor. Grabbing them both, I approach Lily, who is still practically foaming at the mouth. Potter gives me a look as if I've gone insane. I ignore him.

"Lily," I snap to get her attention. She glances briefly at me before returning to trying to struggle out of her brother's apparently vice like grip. "Lily Luna Potter!" I shout. "Listen to me right now!" She turns to stare at me. I hold out her broom. "Get on."

"What?" she splutters.

"Get on or you are off the team," I threaten, narrowing my eyes. Yes, I am a Slytherin for a reason. She continues to stare at me wide eyed. "NOW!" I bellow in my Quidditch Captain voice., causing Albus and Rose, who are still seated on the stairs doing nothing, to jump. Lily hurriedly reaches for her broom and mounts it right in the middle of the Hall. Oh well. I do the same, much to Scorpius and Potter's astonishment, and kick off, flying straight at the enormous oak doors which magically swing open as we approach.

Without a word, I accelerate as we come out into the open air. Lily follows close behind as we fly up and up into the night sky. The world looks beautiful from a broom. I can see the stars sprinkled across the sky right until the horizon, the mountains that surround the castle loom around us like overgrown shadows and the Back Lake resembles a flawless mirror that reflects the night's sky. We fly up to the top of the castle, twisting and turning as we weave through the towers and turrets, Lily always close on my heels.

With the wind tugging at my hair and robes, I feel like I am truly free and I suspect Lily feels the same. The motion of the broom is soothing, calming. When you fly like this, you remember exactly why you love to fly. The ground falls away below us as we climb higher and higher. I hear Lily laugh into the wind. The sound echoes across the valley, happy and carefree.

Finally, I come to rest on the topmost battlement of the castle, a place I found in my Third Year after Potter called me a filthy piece of nothing and said I would never make it as a professional Quidditch player. I cried for a whole hour. Ever since, this is the place that I come when I am mad, or need to think, or just generally want a break from reality. You cannot get here any other way than by broom and I have never told anyone else about it.

We dismount in silence. Lily drops to the floor, exhausted.

"What is this place?" she breathes after a while.

"I found it in Third Year, I come here to think," I explain.

"It's beautiful," she smiles. We sit in silence, both staring into the stars. She is right, it is beautiful up here. You feel like if you could just stretch your fingertips a little further, you would be able to touch heaven. It is peaceful here too. "Why does he do it? Make me so mad?" she frowns.

"Seth? I have no idea… Maybe because you let him," I shrug. I have one younger sibling, a brother, but he is only four so I have never really had to have this kind of conversation with anyone before.

"I don't mean to… He just knows _exactly_ how to get under my skin," she sighs in frustration. "And the worst part is, I can never remember what he said that made me mad in the first place." I snort quietly to myself, knowing exactly how she feels. "I just don't understand why he hates me so much," her whisper is so quiet I barely hear it. It must have taken her a lot to confess that.

"He doesn't hate you Lily," I sigh, not entirely sure if the words are actually true. "He's just a thirteen year old boy who doesn't get how to talk to girls yet."

"He talks to loads of girls… He's even got a girlfriend…" she trails off, obviously lost in thought.

"He'll grow out of it Lily," I smile reassuringly.

"But he's been like this since my first day at Hogwarts. I can't even remember what I did! What if we turn out like you and James? What if we're _worse_ than you and James!"

"I don't think you can get _worse_ than me and scumface," I chuckle. "And don't worry, if you do, I'll got plenty of tips on how to get revenge… We're Slytherins remember. Just Owl me if you need me."

"But by the time we're in Seventh Year, you'll be, what, 21, 22… You probably won't even remember me," her ever present frown deepens.

"Of course I will, I'll even give you free tickets to see my games when I'm a famous Quidditch player," I wink and she gives a half smile… which I suppose is as good as it gets from Lily Potter. I watch her as she returns her gaze to the stars. It is not very often that Lily opens up like this. Flying does that to people. It's like a drug, your own, personal high. It makes you feel on top of the world, like nothing could come between you and your dreams, perfection… But like everything, the feeling fades and I can see Lily's customary blank mask come falling back down on her pretty, young features and I know it is time to fly back down to reality. As we mount our brooms, Lily turns to me and I see a glimmer of the real Lily in her eyes, the Lily she always tries to hide.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "Thank you for showing me this place." I nod and know she has understood.

As we come to land on the front steps, I see a figure watching us from the shadows. I know at once who it is but for some reason, I don't have the compulsive urge to insult him. I think the feeling flying gave me is still lingering in my bloodstream. He juts nods as Lily makes it safely (and calmly) into the castle, I don't think she even noticed he was there, and I follow her someway behind, hopeful that someone has saved me some food.

* * *

**Hello there, I hope you enjoy this story. If you are at all interested in my characters and/or my writing, you can check out my blog (link on profile page) so see pictures, ask questions or see when I plan to update. Thanks for reading, _InkAndParchment._**


	3. The Note

**II**

**The Note**

**_November 2021_**

There are many reasons why I hate James Potter. And the fact he feels the need to throw scrunched up balls of paper at the back of my head during Transfiguration is definitely one of them. I mean, seriously, are we _five_? I spin around in my chair to glare at him, only to find him smiling at me. Smiling. At me. James Potter. I think I had better warn a Professor that students are brewing Polyjuice Potion because, quite frankly, that is _not_ James Potter. Because James Potter does _not_ smile at me. Ever. Smirk – all the time. But _smile_? No.

"Are you ill?" I hiss at him and his smile instantly changes to his customary smirk.

"Just read it Sedgy," he sneers and I glare at him. Yes, he calls me Sedgy. No, I hate it, which is why he does it. I can deal with just Sedge… but Sedgy? I mean come on. It is ridiculous. Picking the screwed up piece of paper off the floor by my feet, I try to ignore the fact I can still feel the Scum's eyes on the back of my head. I swear he stares at me purposefully because he knows it pisses me off.

_Thanks for helping with Lily. JP._

Huh? What? Brain meltdown. Confused.

"Quinn," Rosa practically hisses in my ear. "You've been staring at that sheet of paper for almost five minutes. Professor Ferdinand is getting suspicious and Potter is finding it rather funny," she nods her head discreetly to where Potter and his best friend, Andrew Thomas, are trying to muffle their laughter. "Am I missing a joke?" she asks. Her lip curls slightly as she speaks, indicating she finds the behaviour of both myself and the boys behind us to be far below par. I just shrug and pretend to get rid of the paper.

Instead of throwing it back without a reply as I previously would have done, I scribbled a brief note underneath the Scum's scrawled handwriting. _Didn't do it for you. Did it for the team. QS._ Scrunching the paper up again, I toss it over my shoulder with the finesse of a Chaser and I have no doubt he is able to catch it with the same skill. I may hate him but there is no denying he is a good Quidditch player. But 'good' is as far as I will go.

I hear the Scum snort quietly as he reads my reply. Even his snort is annoying. And I know most peoples' snorts are annoying but his is _really_ annoying. It is just so full of his arrogance and self-importance. The guy is a complete asshole. Within seconds, the paper ball hits the back of my head again and this time I manage to catch it behind my back before it hits the ground. I heard Thomas make a grunt of approval at my skill and I know the Scum is scowling even though I cannot see his face. He hates that I am better than him.

_Thanks anyway. JP._ I frown down at the paper. There was something grotesquely wrong with Potter. This was far from normal. This was unheard of. Quickly scribbling my reply, I chucked it back to the Scum and resumed pretending to take notes.

"Mr Potter? Is there something the matter?" Professor Ferdinand asks down his nose. Swivelling in my chair, I see Potter trying to reach the note with his toes. Beside him, Thomas is smirking triumphantly. I can only assume that Thomas flicked the paper off the table because that was certainly not where I threw it.

"Nothing sir," the Scum mutters, trying (and failing) to discreetly manoeuvre the paper under his desk with his foot. Professor Ferdinand looks unconvinced and with a flick of his wand, the paper is in his outstretched palm. Bollocks.

"Does this belong to you Mr Potter?" Ferdinand asks in a similar tone of voice one might associate with asking about the weather. The Scum does not reply so he opens the note and, to my dismay, begins to read. " _'Thanks for helping with Lily. JP.' _– Am I to assume 'JP' is you, Mr Potter?" The Scum just stares at the desk so Professor Ferdinand reads on. " _'Didn't do it for you. Did it for the team. QS.'_ And who is this mysterious 'QS'?" Ferdinand asks, looking down his bespectacled nose at each member of the class in turn. "Why Miss Sedgwick," he smiles at last. "I believe you are the proud owner of those initials, are you not?" Not knowing what else to do, I just nod and glare at Shithead behind me for getting me caught.

"_Burn_ Potter," someone jeers from the other side of the room.

"Thank you Mr Davenport," Professor Ferdinand frowns. " _'Thanks anyway. JP.'_ My, my, Mr Potter. How generous of you," Ferdinand smirks. I always knew I liked him. "But Miss Sedgwick," he shakes his head in mild amusement. " _'Go see Madam Bones. QS.'_ Is there something the matter with Potter?" the Professor asks over the chuckles of my classmates. I refrain from smiling at my own wit. Even if it was not particularly witty.

"I am simply worried for his mental health Professor," I explain sweetly. Ferdinand supresses a chuckle of his own before handing the paper back to the Scum.

"And how will you reply Mr Potter?" he asks.

"By asking her to the Christmas Ball… Because, you know, it's good for the mentally unstable to stick together," the Scum replies a little too smoothly for my liking. Ferdinand turns his sharp blue eyes to me, daring me to respond. I do so willingly.

"By his own reasoning I would have to refuse. It would simply not be fair for him to go with someone of my superior intellect," I smile and Professor Ferdinand nods in approval.

"Well I'm sure you will be able to come to a compromise while you sort through files in detention tonight," he grins wickedly before returning to the front of the classroom and continuing with the lesson as if there had been no interruption at all. Remember when I said I liked him? Yeah? Well I don't anymore. Because thanks to him, I have to serve yet _another_ detention with Scumface.

"Not you two again," sneers the disgruntled voice of the decomposing caretaker, Filtch. "Well, well, well… What shall we do with you tonight then?" The glint in his one working eye puts me on edge and I suspect he is in an even fouler mood than usual this evening. Which means an even fouler detention that usual. Perfect.

"Filtch! There you are!" A familiar voice shouts from down the corridor. "Any chance you got a couple of students on detention tonight? I've got a Grindylow tank that needs cleaning…" Filtch's face falls, clearly cleaning out a Grindylow tank was not what he had planned. "Ah, perfect, Potter, Sedgwick, follow me please," instructs Professor Lupin. I have to refrain from sticking my tongue out at Filtch as I follow the Scum out of his office.

Professor Lupin only started teaching at Hogwarts when I was in my Fifth Year but he swiftly became one of my favourite Professors despite the fact he was in Gryffindor while he was at school. He even let me curse the Scum once. It was not a particularly harsh curse but it felt good all the same. Especially when he said it would probably cause the recipient to feel itchy for about a week. I am pretty sure he did not get a Christmas present from the Scum that year.

"Thanks Ted," the Scum mutters as we wander up to Professor Lupin's classroom.

"I wouldn't thank me James," Lupin laughs. "Cleaning out a Grinylow tank is not a pleasant job."

"Yeah but it'll be better than whatever Filtch was brewing for us," Scumface snorted. I mentioned how annoying his snort is, haven't I? Because it is annoying. Really annoying. "Couldn't you have said you just needed one student? Then _that_ wouldn't have to come," he jerks his head in my direction and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Now, now, Jamsie," Lupin smirks. "Be nice to my favourite student." The Scum's face contorts in outrage at Professor Lupin's statement. "Don't burst a blood vessel," he mutters when Scumface turns red.

"Yeah _Jamsie_," I taunt. "Couldn't have you screwing up your face any _more_, could we? I mean it would scare the little First Years to death."

"They are perfectly used to disfigured faces Sedgy, they have to look at you when they go down to eat. It's a wonder they can still stomach their food. I'm amazed I can even stomach it," he sneers.

"James, we know you could keep your food down even if you were watching your brother lose his virginity," Lupin muttered so faintly I'm not sure if I am not sure if I was supposed to hear him.

"Well it's a good job Al is never going to lose his virginity so I won't have to test that theory then," Scumface retorted and I detected an element of bitterness to his voice.

"Sounds like a sore spot Scumface," I smirk. "Did Aly lose his V–Card before ickle Jamsie," I bait him and his eyes narrow, confirming my suspicions.

"Ickle Jamsie has yet to lose his," Lupin smirks, earning himself a whack on the arm from the Scum. "Oi, careful, I'll have to give you another detention." I simply raise an eyebrow at the Scum who, incidentally, refuses to meet my eye. We walk the rest of the way in silence. Awkward silence at that. I think Scumy is trying to mentally murder Lupin. I am not entirely sure of their relationship; I think Professor Lupin is like an older brother to Scumface.

Professor Lupin's classroom is dimly lit with small glass orbs floating by the ceiling and emitting a faint glow, the ceiling high windows are like black holes into the night, the desks stand in orderly lines, like soldiers standing in their ranks… In the far corner stood a dark tank, almost three meters tall and it was to this that Professor Lupin led us.

"Here's little Grindy, make sure he doesn't bite you and good luck," he grins before turning on his heel and striding back out of the classroom and leaving me alone with the Scum in a dark room. Well this could only end badly.

The Scum and I worked in silence for the best part of an hour. He pretty much refused to acknowledge my very existence. I think he is embarrassed by that little snippet of information that Lupin let slip earlier. To be honest, I am slightly surprised. The Scum has a reputation as a bit of a ladies man so that fact he hasn't even _lost_ it yet kind of goes against that reputation. I bet he is crapping himself that I'm going to let that bit of information slip. Hmm… blackmail material right there. That could come in handy.

"Whoa," I gasp. "What the hell!" Blinking, I wiped the water from my face and looked into the tank, trying to see what had splashed me. We had moved 'Grindy' into a smaller tank while we cleaned his and I was not aware there was anything else living in this one. Another shower of water comes my way and I look up to see the Scum looking innocently down at his cloth. Oh is _that_ how this going to go.

Dipping my cloth back in the water, I scoop my hands and angle them at the Scum. As he turns to face me again, I send the water flying at his face. Spluttering incoherently, the Scum tries to get the dirty water out of his eyes. Mimicking his earlier behaviour, I continued cleaning the tank with an innocent expression on my face.

"Right Sedge," he snaps seconds before a handful of water reaches my face. Not cool Scum. Not cool. I return the gesture, along with a handful of weeds that I yanked from the bottom of the tank. The weeds get stuck in his hair and he doesn't seem to notice as he just continues splashing water at me.

Within moment, the two of us are covered from head to toe in grimy Grindylow water. His hair is hanging limply in front of his piercing blue eyes and his robes are dripping, the white of his shirt turning see-through and I am grateful that he is wearing a sweater to cover his Quidditch muscles. I laugh at the look of disgust on his face as he pulls the weed from his hair. At the sound, his blue eyes flicker straight to mine.

His enter body freezes. I freeze. Something in his eyes changes and he drops the cloth he was still holding, turns and runs from the room. Leaving me soaking wet and alone with a half clean Grindylow tank. Not likely Scumface.

"Oi Fuckhead!" I screech, running full tilt to the door. "Get your fucking ass back here you wanker!" I reach the door just in time to see Scumface tearing around the corner and out of sight. "I'm not bloody cleaning it by myself!" I scream.

"Is there a problem Miss Sedgwick?" someone asks. Turning on my heel, I see Professor Lupin striding down to corridor towards me from the opposite direction to the one Scumface had just vanished. "And, um, why are you all _wet_?" he frowns before raising an eyebrow as if there was something funny about this situation. Which there wasn't. At all.

"That fucking twat just ran off!" I almost shout in Lupin's face.

"Please calm down Miss Sedgwick," Lupin supresses a laugh, only antagonising me further, before looking into his classroom. "Well I see you have managed to destroy my room… And by the look of it, you are not going to be cleaning it up any time soon. I'm afraid I'll have to give you and James another detention but you can go now, I'll deal with this," he smiles before taking out his wand and cleaning the water from the floor.

Still dripping wet, I storm through the castle corridors. That fucking _ass_. When I reached the Grand Staircase I hesitated for only a second before running up instead of down. If I hadn't spent most of my school life playing pranks on the Gryffindors, I probably wouldn't know where their common room was. As it is, I know exactly where their common room is and am able to find it in less than five minutes. Luck seems to have finally decided to join me tonight as I make it to the portrait hole at the same time a couple of Gryffindor Prefects do.

"Hey, you!" I shout. They both spin around to face me, clearly not expecting to meet anyone in the corridors. "Do me a favour and tell Scumface there is someone waiting outside to talk to him – in fact, tell him Professor Lupin is waiting for him. Don't tell him it's me or I swear you won't be able to walk for a week," I threaten. Yeah, I can be a bitch when I am mad. And in case you had not figured, right now, I'm mad.

The girl nodded quickly and muttered the password so quietly I could not hear it. The Fat Lady glared at me before letting her in. The boy on the other hand moved his hands absentmindedly to cover his manhood, the threat a little too real for him, before diving in after the girl. I could hear him scream the Scum's name as he went. And yes, they do know who 'Scumface' is. I have used the name enough in the past for it to be known across the school.

It takes two minutes before the portrait of the Fat Lady swings open again and the Scum arrives. He instantly begins muttering an apology but I cut him off with a sharp thwack to his jaw with my fist.

"That," I spit. "Was for getting us another detention."

"Quinn! Uh… Out of curiosity, why are you _wet_?" Scorpius asks with an amused smirk on his face as I come storming into the Slytherin common room, my robes leaving a trail of water behind them and my knuckles still blissfully sore from their contact with Scumhead's face.

"Scum," I hiss through my teeth as I march over to the girls' dorms. Scorpius chuckles behind me as I go. Arrogant prat. The dorm is half full, Rosamund must still be in the common room with Blake as her bed is still irritatingly neat and the bed on her right is also empty while the two across from her have their curtains drawn. I march on through to the bath room and strip off my sodden robes before climbing into the shower and letting the warm water wash away the grim and anger that the Scum had caused.

I cannot quite understand _why_ I am so angry though. He always made me mad and that certainly is not the first time one of us had run out on a joint detention. And yet here I am, absolutely seething for no real reason. And the thing that bugs me the most? That my punch did not break his nose. It would not have been the first time but at least it would be more satisfying than the bruise he will have tomorrow. Hell, the puff will probably get one of his female cousins to cover it up for him.

Now _that_ I could take the micky out of. Endlessly. It might even last me up until Christmas. Well now I am just _hoping_ he covers up his bruise. What in Merlin's name has become of me?

"Quinn?" someone calls from outside the bathroom door. "You've been in there for over half an hour… Are you okay?" It is Rosamund. That girl needs to stop mothering me.

"I'm fine, be out in a second," I reply over the noise of the shower. I love showers by the way, just as a side note. I could spend forever in a shower. Well, maybe not _forever_ as I need to sleep. And eat. Definitely eat. I wonder if I have any Chocolate Frogs left from our last Hogsmeade weekend…?


End file.
